It's raining again
by m-is-for-MollyMansfieldMealing
Summary: It's raining again, and Connie needs an umbrella to save her from drowning. But can she pluck up the courage to ask her old mentor for help? Or will she continue to struggle on, trying to keep her head above the surface? One shot :D


**Half sparked by last night's episode and half by the song "Sun and the Rain" by Madness :D I hope you enjoy! Please review if possible and let me know your thoughts :)**

**All dialogue is the same as last night's except Dylan's last little bit which I would have liked to have seen :D -Sophie x**

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"I asked for your best today, and what did I get? A total and utter shambles!"

The roaring shout of Connie Beauchamp rang throughout cubicles, shocking her staff and unsettling the patients. Her eyes became piercing as she glared at each and every person stood around the nurse's station.

"You treat this place like a playground! Forget letting yourselves down, the department down, _me _down! You let the patients down." She spat, and stalked away in the direction of her office, heels clicking menacingly with ever step. Just as she passed Rita however, the woman span around and looked down at the clinical nurse manager, jabbing a finger towards her chest.

"And thank _you _for stabbing me in the back." The woman hissed, towering over her.

"Excuse me?" Rita replied, a slight note of delusion in her voice.

"Someone made a complaint against me and it doesn't take Sherlock to work out who it was." Her facial features were set and the atmosphere became icy.

"I didn't say a word." The smaller woman matched Connie's tone of voice, jaw clenched. "And I don't appreciate being accused of something I didn't do."

Connie stood and watched Rita as she walked off, her hands beginning to tremble with both anger and uncertainty. She span on her heel and walked straight into her office, slamming the door with an almighty bang before standing behind her desk, hand over her mouth. She could feel the tell-tale stinging of her eyes and she knew the tears were coming.

Turning round to sit down, she jumped as the looming figure of Dylan Keogh came into view. Connie sat and took some deep breaths.

"I thought you'd gone, not very sporting of you, sneaking around like that." She muttered, looking down at her desk.

"Yes, well, I think we may have gotten our wires crossed earlier." He spoke, watching as she spread her arms out and continued to breathe deeply. She looked up at his voice.

"The complaint I mentioned was the one brought forward by Hailey Blake."

Connie's eyes widened.

"No… But, no she'd dropped it, she… I…"

"Mmm, well it was one of the things that triggered the inspection. I just thought you should know."

Just as he made towards the door, he stopped and turned to look at her.

"Is… Is everything alright, Connie?" He asked slightly awkwardly, one hand on the door handle. She looked up sharply.

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" She snapped, her tough exterior on show again. Dylan quickly shrugged.

"Just wondered." He mumbled before darting out the door, leaving the clinical lead in silence.

It was Hailey Blake… Not Rita… She'd had a full blown rant at her for absolutely nothing. What would she say to her, what was she going to do?

The woman couldn't think straight, her mind was full with swirling thoughts and unanswered questions with more being added each passing second.

She made a frustrated exclamation and swiped all her files from her desk in a fit of rage, feeling her stethoscope swing violently around her neck.

Overwhelmed with grief, loneliness and anger, she opened up her emails and typed into the contact bar- "Elliot Hope".

Then she began to type.

"Elliot,

I need your advice. Hah, I bet you laugh as you read that. "Connie Beauchamp doesn't ask for advice!" You'll be thinking, mm, I can imagine it now.

But right now, I do.

Ever since I started here, it feels like there's been a cloud hanging over my head. Some days it's white and fluffy and everything's good. But some days, well, let's say it's more of a hurricane.

Nothing seems to be going right for me at the minute Elliot and I don't know what to do. Grace's half way round the world with Sam in America, I've been accused of neglect and was almost taken to court (I'm sure you heard from Guy), none of my staff treat their roles seriously, and to top it all off? We had an inspection today from the trust, and it couldn't have gone worse if we'd tried.

How much more's to come? How much more do I have to deal with before it all comes to an end, and my life goes back to the way it was? Because I don't know how much more I can take, and I hate to admit that but I can't deny it any longer.

It's raining again Elliot, and the water level is just rising and rising and rising. I'm slowly drowning, too weak to swim.

What am I to do?

Yours,

Connie."

It was indeed raining again, and hot salty tears splashed onto her desk as Connie's cursor hovered over the send button. She was in pieces, a broken image of her former self, and she needed advice, guidance.

But she'd gotten through other bad times without help. She'd spent most of her life an independent woman, and that's what most knew her as. If she was to crumble now, let her tough exterior fall to ruins, who would respect her? Who would still be there?

No-one.

She couldn't risk it.

Connie moved her mouse and clicked delete before letting her head collapse into her hands, suddenly exhausted.

She couldn't carry on like this for much longer.


End file.
